Reasonable Doubt
by AliasJaneDoe
Summary: The team is on the trail of a serial killer, but are they blaming the wrong man?


* * *

TITLE: "Reasonable Doubt"  
  
AUTHOR: ghostwritten  
  
E-MAIL: AliasJaneDoe (at) hotmail (dot) com  
  
RATING: strong PG-13 (might become R later)  
  
SUMMARY: The team is on the trail of a serial killer, but are they blaming the wrong man? 

CATEGORY: drama, legal thriller  
  
ARCHIVE: not without permission  
  
SPOILERS: anything in seasons one and two is fair game  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'm trying to get over writer's block by writing. This old plot bunny was the first to come to mind. If my inspiration returns for my original stories, I'll likely abandon this one. Also, I'm making this up as I go along, so warnings might change.  
  
FEEDBACK: yes please, even flames are welcome as long you give a reason for them  
  
WARNINGS: graphic imagery, violence, language

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Emma tried to scream against the strip of tape that covered her mouth. She twisted her body, fighting. Frantic. Desperate. The gloved hands held firm, dragging her up, pulling her across the floor despite her efforts to break free.

The duct tape cut into her wrists, and she lashed out with her legs, kicking, flailing... praying. Anything to make him stop. But her struggles only earned her bruises from the floor and his hands.

She could smell the bleach. And she didn't know which was stronger, the panic or the fear. Maybe they were the same. It was all terror, raw and overwhelming, consuming.

She cried. Cried tears and cried out. If he'd just remove the tape from her mouth...

She wanted to plead, to beg for him to stop. She hadn't seen his face. She wouldn't tell. Wouldn't tell anybody. He could let her go. She wouldn't tell...

His hands gripped tighter, lifting her, forcing her into the tub...

* * *

"Emma!" Hands shook her shoulders.

She snapped open her eyes, still fighting, breathing hard.

"Hey, it's okay, you're safe." The hands were no longer restraining or forcing, instead comforting, soothing. "You're safe, nobody's gonna hurt you. It's over. You're safe."

Troubled eyes watched her with concern, and she stared back, confused for a moment before grasping him tightly. "Brennan..."

"Yeah." He rubbed her back gently as she pressed herself to his chest and clung to him. "I've got you. You're okay."

Emma held onto him as if her life depended on it. He was her protector. His strength calmed her.

She eventually noticed Adam, Shalimar, and Jesse were there also. She must have been screaming. Brennan held out a hand to signal them to stay back. He was giving her a moment, for whatever reason thinking she needed space. Maybe she did.

After taking time to recover from the dream, she slowly loosened her grip on Brennan and tried to give him a look that said she was okay now.

"Sarah?" he asked softly.

Emma nodded. "She's dead."

"Are you alright?" He was clearly worried.

She nodded again. "Yes." The word came out quietly, and Brennan's expression remained troubled. "I'm okay."

He finally seemed to accept her answer and stood up. Then he looked to the others.

Emma shoved her messy hair behind her ears and took several more deep breaths.

"Adam, she is okay, right?" Brennan asked, relinquishing his place by her side to the older man.

She cast him what she hoped was a reassuring glance. "I am, Bren." But she didn't protest as Adam checked her out.

Jesse regarded her cautiously, and he hesitated to pick up the notepad and pen from her nightstand. They'd placed it there in case this happened again.

Emma saw him look at the clock and scribble down the time. She closed her eyes, and made herself remember. "The floor wasn't carpet. Concrete, I think. There wasn't a pattern, so it wasn't wood... I don't remember any windows or outside light, but it's night, so I... I might be wrong."

Jesse's pen paused on the pad. "You're doing fine, Emma, keep going."

She twisted her sheet between her fingers. "Basement. Had to be, there were stairs. And he... he wore gloves. Some kind of plastic. Not like latex doctor ones, but maybe like you get for doing dishes... or scrubbing floors. The kind you buy when you're going to use-- when you're using cleaning products."

Like bleach. But nobody voiced the thought.

"He uses some kind of tub," she continued. "Freestanding, not against a wall or anything."

"Ceramic or metal?" Jesse asked. Brennan gave him a glare that said not to push.

Emma shook her head. "I don't know. I should remember but I was so scared. She was scared," she corrected. "Sarah, she..."

Brennan reached around Adam and held her hand. She looked up at him.

"Then Brennan pulled me out."

"I wasn't gonna let that bastard kill you, Emma," he stated firmly. "Not even in a dream."

She squeezed his hand.

"Do you remember anything else?" Jesse asked, his tone holding no pressure for an answer. Brennan shot him another look regardless.

"No." She shook her head.

"You're sure?"

"God, Jesse!" Brennan snapped, overly protective. "She already said no."

"I'm sorry, Emma," Jesse apologized, looking at the pad rather than her.

"No, don't be. I should remember more." She wished she could recall anything that might actually help. "I want to catch this guy. We need to catch him."

Adam still wore his perpetual look of deep concentration as he finally spoke. "Emma, why don't you try to get back to sleep and get some rest. Jesse, go enter the new information in the computer. And, Brennan, you might want to get some ice."

There was a chorus of consent. Then the three men all moved to leave the room.

"Brennan," Emma called, making him pause.

He gave her a quick half-smile. "Doesn't even hurt," he lied.

She attempted to return the smile. "Thanks."

He walked back to the side of her bed, then placed a brief kiss against the top of her head. "Good night, Emma."

"Night, Bren," she echoed as he left her room.

Shalimar, who was still with her, gave her a slight nudge. "Go. Shower. I'll get you fresh sheets."

Not wanting to return to sleep immediately anyway, Emma obeyed and untangled herself from the sweaty sheets and headed for the bathroom.

She didn't want to have the dreams any more. She rubbed at her head to ease the pounding.

They needed to find this guy. Soon.

* * *

TBC...

Let me know what you think and if I should go on.


End file.
